


Burdens Among Us

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Trust Issues, depression and anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has nothing left. Having been human and alone for so long he decides to take his own life when he’s saved by a forgotten friend. Rated M for language and Sex as well as triggering content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this work has been reposted due to me working on it again

_It was finally over. His worthless existence, his lost cause, hos long, depressing pain he’d been stuck with for so long. And he rejoiced because of it for the first time in years. Happiness filled his body for the first time as he tied the rope around his ceiling fan, pulling the finished loop over his neck. He stood on his toes in the desk chair, swaying slightly but he found strength in the thought of his end. No one would mind if he was gone anyway. Heaven was in shambles, Sam and Dean were dead, and his purpose was gone._

_Hell didn’t seem like such a bad place. Surely it was where he was destined. It was his fault. Everything was his fault._

 

_And so with a final look at his feet he took in one last breath, and kicked the stool out from under him, he struggled at first, but forcefully relaxed as his lungs pleaded for air. He thought about her, about her demon snark and her beautiful thorny power that once touched him as intimately as her lips. He found himself smiling. What was that thing she said? “We’re going to Heaven…”_

"Clarence!" as black blossomed over his vision, he heard a familiar voice crying out. It was probably Leena, here to collect rent, only to find her tenant hanging from the ceiling fan. But her voice was different. Her voice was…beautiful.

The next thing Castiel knew was that he was on the floor, the restraint of the rope around his neck gone and air flying into his lungs. As his vision slowly returned, he saw a woman’s shape start to form and he saw her arms shaking him.

"God damnit Castiel!" His real name. No one knew his true, angelic name he’d abandoned so long ago, he’d been living under some made up alias for so long that it always was foreign to hear his old name.

It took him some time before her face cleared in the light. “Meg?” he rasped.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

He didn’t have an answer, and to be honest he wasn’t sure if she would believe anything he’d say. So instead he stared up at that face he was never able to save, the one demon he trusted and lost. The lover and his forgotten friend.  ”Meg.”

"Yeah."

"You’re alive?."

"It wasn’t easy," she was helping him up, concern evident in her meatsuit’s brown eyes. "What the hell were you thinking? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"How did you know where I was?" he asked instead, changing the subject.

"That’s not important," she muttered, glancing around his small apartment. "What, already give your stuff away?"

"There was nothing to give, and no one to give it to."

Meg grunted, standing up from her crouch. Cas looked like hell, thinner than he used to be. His brown hair was also graying, which made him look older, and frankly look even more broken. Then again, Castiel was already  _old_ , having had been around for thousands of years until his entire world seemed to collapse. But his appearance shocked her. And then it hit her.  _His vessel shouldn’t age._.. _  
_

"You’re human."

He shrugged, not even bothering to acknowledge her surprise.  _A lot of things can happen when you spend fifteen years in your own hell._  Castiel rummaged around his small living room, picking up his cut rope and undoing the knots.

"What are you gonna do with that," she muttered, pointing at the rope

"It’s for me," he replied, using his teeth to get out the fifth coil. "I’m tired, Meg. I’m useless, and I just want it to be over.

She sighed, snatching the rope from him and tossing it.  _Fucking idiot_. “I didn’t claw my ass outta hell just to see you up and kill yourself. Look at you, Cas! You look like a fucking elephant sat on you! You think your life is so bad because you don’t have wings anymore? Well tough, because I’m not letting you kill yourself.”

He looked from his empty hands to her face. “You’re serious.”

"Damn straight. Look," he kneeled beside him again, running a hand though his hair so that she could yank his head to the side so that she could look him over. His neck was bruised, which triggered something inside her. Something that made her protective and disgustingly sympathetic. "I just got outta hell, and I’m hungry. You look like you haven’t eaten in days. Let’s get you something to eat, people have to eat."

—

She managed to get him to his feet and walk him over to the little dinner table just outside the kitchen. His bruises on his neck were getting worse, turning an ugly shade of purple and green. He also walked with a slight limp, his muscles probably aching from little-to-no use over the past few days.

When she got him over to the tiny table he just sat there staring at her, as if he hated her for saving his life.  _You’re welcome, Dickhead_ , she thought to herself as she rummaged his cabinets. Cat food and tuna.

"You have a cat?" she asked him, watching his head roll from her to the table.

"Had one. Just like everything else. Dead."

"Fun."

She set the tuna can into the old, rusted can opener, the smell attacking her nose as she dug into his drawers, pulling out a plastic spoon.

"Eat," she ordered, setting it down in front on him. "Or I’ll shove it down your throat."

"Bitch," he replied, forking it into his mouth.

"Look, Cas, I don’t want to play mommy. I came back hoping for an angel. What the hell happened to you?"

He looked up at her, spooning the fork in the fish meat. “You were gone, Sam and Dean were dead…I couldn’t handle myself.

"I went to heaven to see them. The angels were rebuilding heaven. God even brought Gabriel and Balthazar home. But I wanted to see the Winchesters. They were my family.

"And I just…left."

She glared at him. “That’s not all.”

"No. I went mad. Ripped out my grace. Fell here."

He seemed so miserable, and Meg could relate, especially since she’d spent what felt like thousands of years in hell. Poor bastard.

"You need sleep."

"I don’t want to sleep. It’s like temporary death. Wonderful while it’s happening until it ends."

"Finish your fucking food and get to sleep, Castiel. I wont ask twice."

"Fucking bitch," he hissed, almost throwing his chair out of his way before slamming the bedroom door.

"Great idea, go see the broken angel, keep him from capping himself. What a wonderful life you lead, Meg."

Wish a huff she left his mess on the table and threw herself on his couch, cursing herself for even going through this.

_It’s gonna be a long, long year._


	2. Let Me Wake

_Two days ago_

She was awake in an instant. first she drifted through limbo, floating away in peaceful sleep.

And now she was gasping against cold asphalt, her hair tangled and her eyes wide.

 _What…the fuck_. 

"Naharra," a voice whispered, the Archangel Gabriel looking down at her with a cocked head.

"Don’t…call me that," she wheezed, struggling to get up on her feet. "Don’t ever…call me that."

 

"You are needed."

"Right, like you winged asshats need me. Cas surely didn’t need me, you know, when he let me roll over and die. Which was not sexy," she turned away from him. "Thanks for the revival though."

"Look, bitch," Gabriel’s tone shifted from soft to the egotistical rage he was famous for. "My little brother is gonna kill himself tomorrow. And I’m not allowed to interfere. Now he had a special…eh, thing for you. And you are the only one who can stop him."

"Just let him rot," she muttered with a tinge of anger. "Castiel is an angel-"

"Not anymore, sugarlips," Gabriel replied. "Summer O’ 2013, everyone burned. No angels."

"But you-"

"God came back, but he’s ambivalent towards Cas, see?" He paced around her for a bit before continuing. "Castiel is…compromised."

"He’s human."

"Bingo."

"And you want me to-"

"To keep him from killing himself," he shifted slightly. "Believe it or not, some of us still care about family. Don’t let him do this," Gabriel begged. "I need time before I can do what I need to. If he dies his soul is compromised.

"Meg, please."

—

Why did she ever agree to that? 

Castiel was distant, and for some reason he seemed pissed at her for saving his life. Again.

_I just love the gratitude labeled out there for me._

"You were dead," he repeated again. "You were dead. Sam and Dean saw you die."

"Yeah, well, didn’t take."

He had moved them over to his old couch when he finally decided to wake up. He didn’t look that different, he was still in the same vessel, but his eyes were heavier, full of pain and heartache that started to weigh on Meg as well. 

"How long?"

"Since I came back?"

He nodded.

"A month," she lied. "I got your place from that skinny asshole with the boat. You and the hunters must of…had a falling out."

"I left when the angels came back," he replied. "They didn’t need me anymore."

Awkward silence hung between them. Meg fidgeted with her hands while Castiel leaned back on the small sofa, shutting his eyes.

"You know, killing yourself isn’t the best way out of things, Clarence."

"It is preferred."

She swallowed, taking a shot. “You still going to be sweet on me?”

"I was always sweet on you."

"Good boy."

Silence made Meg uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to say something, only to have Castiel beat her.

"I assume you want to stay, since you can’t…necessarily go anywhere."

She blinked. “You noticed?”

He stood up, heading over to the rotted closet door beside the bedroom. "Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I could sense it."

He fought the closet door open and grabbed a tattered comfort blanket, unfolding it as he threw it on the couch.

"Really, I have to sleep here?" She muttered when he started to turn for the bedroom. 

"I prefer to be alone."

"Well, you gonna thank me?"

"Thank you, Meg, for continuing a life that should have ended."

She scoffed. “You’re really playing that card Castiel? I came back for you!”

"I didn’t ask you to!" Castiel’s voice was rasped as he yelled at her, for the first time since they’d know each other. Rage was evident in his blue eyes, and the force and brutality of his words stung like poison. "I destroyed my home. I  _murdered_  my own family, and I don’t even get the luxury of death. And after everything I’m doomed to living with my guilt for how ever long this body lasts.

“You don’t get it, Meg.  _I don’t want to be saved_.”

Every tinge of sympathy she had for him vanished. “How dare you say that,” she hissed. “You’re a fucking dumbass, Castiel. There are people who still care about you. Who still love you. I still…”

"You still what, _demon_?”

"Oh, you son of a bitch. Kill yourself then. Let everything you have tried to fix and anything that had tried to care about you wither away because you’re too fucking afraid to…afraid to have a damn life! I’ve been human before, Castiel. I’ve been a demon. I fucking _understand_. You’re just to dumb to see it!”

She watched as anger fell from Castiel’s face, the ex-angel blinking away from her.

"You loved me."

"I didn’t love you I… moderately cared."

"Is that what Sam meant…by unicorn?"

She hated how his voice changed from anger to amusement; he was fucking enjoying this. 

"I told him not to tell you."

"But he did. I didn’t understand," he was looking her with the most pathetic face, and she found herself walking closer to him.

"Is that why you came back? Why you saved me?"

"You still have a fan club, Clarence. Call me the representor of that club."

He was looking down it her with new eyes, curiosity glinting as he kissed her, making her grunt in surprise that he had actually made the move before her. When he broke it off, he found himself staring at her.

She retaliated by grabbing his face, returning his kiss and then some, the both of them so into it that Castiel grabbed her and carried her into his small bedroom.

—

He found himself unable to sleep, even with Meg curled up against him, sleeping softly. How the whole thing happened; how sex seemed to follow them, Castiel was unsure. But the way it seemed to come naturally to them was amazing in his own right.

He had other women before. Even a male out of curiosity. But the way Meg made him feel was something special. It was something that grounded him, that made him comfortable and content, 

It was something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. 

It happened to them several times beforehand, but every time those feelings would be torn from him and he was sure it would happen again and again. But this was different.

In fact, he was praying for it. Praying for some way to stop the pain. 

Meg stirred in her slumber, something that made Castiel a bit uncomfortable as she stretched over him, her arms just falling over his thin hips and her face buried in his chest.

She had overlooked the burn scars that covered his abdomen, a result of a stupid decision he’d made as an angel that left him deformed and displaying a spray of pink raises and narrow cliffs that now adorned his skin.

 _The reason I left the Men of Letters_. _Why I ripped out my grace._

He appreciated she didn’t ask him on it, she more or less just gasped at the webbing of scars that adorned him, and then proceeded to distract him from her face.

_Ego sum angelus burnded._

_The burdened one_.

He let out a heavy sigh.

_What am I supposed to do?_

_Why did you give her back to me?_

Once again, he was unanswered. He was tired, upset, drained.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, and for once no dreams came


	3. Chapter 3

She woke him up with sex and needy hands. She made him groan as small hands traced the curve of his spine, feeling the licks of scars that seemed to curl around his back and nails made contact with his ass.

He was lazy, rolling over slowly so that their lips made contact, a burning sensation that triggered something he’s long thought he buried.

_Smoke, demons screaming._

_Books burning._

_Fire eating him alive, forcing him to cry out like a pathetic child as he was trapped under a bookshelf, fire ripping him apart._

Reality hit him like a steel bat and he pushed Meg away, panicking when he saw his scars from the corner of his eye. Something frightening triggered inside him and he panicked. There was another instance later on when Meg was cooking that the fire made him almost destroy the tiny apartment.

She spent the rest of the day trying to keep him calm and yelling at him for being a fucking idiot. But she understood, strangely. He’d destroyed the tiny table he had shoved behind the kitchen counter and there was other debris from his meltdown that meg was still struggling to get up.

 _If I’m gonna live in a shit hole it’s going to be a nice one_.

Picking up the rest of the dish fragments she looked over and watched him rock himself against the wall, trying to calm his tormented head and she was reminded of their time in the hospital, when his hallucinations of Lucifer become too much and he shut himself down, falling into his own induced coma and closing himself away from the world.

Only that time he woke up as someone with a new outlook on life.

 ”I’m sorry…” he muttered when she sat beside him, watching him try and collect himself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Imsorryimsorry…”

"Shut up," she growled, and when she saw him shrink back she sighed and grabbed him into her, listing to him sob.

"You’re a fucking mess Clarence," she muttered, stroking his hair and letting him lean into her. "What am I gonna do with you."

—

Fuck!” She hissed as Castiel pinned her down harder, his lips trailing her neck as he thrusted into her. His periodic thrusts were more sex driven than love; though she appreciated that Castiel changed his shtick. But when he wrapped his arms around her and the way he kissed her, it reminded her of how Cas used to be.

Of the angel he once was, the Seraph warrior created to destroy her.

Her legs wrapped around his thin hips and her nails running down his scruff, she screamed as the orgasm came, Castiel releasing his grip on her, gasping

His eyes were stone and his face showed no emotion. Which was a bit of a drag. Meg had given him what he would have wanted years ago.

"Seriously?"

"I’ve been at this a bit longer," he growled. "You’ve been dead."

"Rude."

He sighed. “Again, however…”

She cut him off with another kiss, feeling a moan rumble in his throat. When he finally calmed down he somehow managed to let her seduce him again, let him carry her while tasting the soft of her tongue and the claw of her nails in his scalp.

"I want you to say it, Clarence," she said as they broke apart, looking up at him with stern brown eyes. "Tell me you missed me."

He raised himself up, balancing on his elbows and looking down at her. “Why?”

"Say it."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Miss me, Meg?"

She rolled on her side, wanting to ignore his question.

"Meg?"

"Yeah, I missed you. Missed the good fucks you gave. Though I more miss the wings that aren’t Kotex."

He scoffed and rolled away from her, burying his face in his arm to try and show her he wasn’t interested in her new topic.

He felt her nails first, scratching over his back to flattening out to finger tips running over his scars on his front. He moaned as she practically massaged over his rigid skin.

"What are you-"

"You never told me about them; how you got them, how you lost your Tampax Pearl."

"A fire. it’s why the Letters and I are on bad terms."

"What, did you burn down the bunker?"

She saw him build a wall, not wanting to talk about it. “Fine. Be that way,” she muttered, getting up from his floor to get in his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep, since I do that now."

He stood up, surprisingly not uncomfortable with his nakedness, though his arms went over his scars protectively. He walked over to the opposite side of his bed and slid in.

"You want me to hit the couch?"

She was surprised to feel warm arms slide around her body, Castiel pulling her close to his front and pressing his stubbled cheek against her neck.

"I want you to stay."


	4. Let Me Love

The next few days seemed to bring change and a sort of easiness to Castiel. Meg had discovered tricks to his weird little quirks; cooking when he was out or asleep, keeping him as far away from larger bodies of water, and avoided eyeing those burn scars as well as other strange habits he picked up and he seemed to try and keep himself from going off the deep end.

There was sex, fights, sex, more fighting, make-up sex. They seemed to find their little slot in the world that called them freaks and fallen gods.

Somehow Meg enjoyed seeing Castiel change. He was starting to crack away that shell of fallen depressed angel and emerging a new beast, which overall was better than the depressed sack of meat she’d been dealing with the past week since she’d returned. (She’d also seemed to help cure his separation anxiety by leaving him home and finding a job to at least get some rent in).

 

Though she was always brought back to those scars. She’d gotten to know the patchwork webbing intimately and she knew he was concerned with how deformed they made him, so much so that he barely owned anything that didn’t go below the elbows. He had flipped out one night when she unconsciously touched them, just simply brushing her hands over them would end up making him cringe and shake away.

She was sure he wasn’t doing it deliberately, maybe it was some psychological thing he had buried inside his head. But when he was on full panic mode she’d learn that she should just let him calm down on his own.

So she was surprised when he he me her at the door of the tiny apartment, looking alive and fresh for the first time in months, she had to stare at him to see if he was real. He had shaved, no longer looking rumpled as usual and actually managing to look decent in a suit and tie.

"What’s the occasion, Clarence?" she eyed him up and down, amused at how…different this all was. 

"I thought we should go out to dinner," he said, scratching at the small coverage of scars that lined his cheek. "We haven’t left the apartment-"

"Correction,  _you_  haven’t left the apartment,” she smirked. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve actually been paying for you.”

"I know. Thats why I want to take you," he smiled sadly, almost looking so small and shattered and Meg knew this had taken a lot for him to even bring up. "Please?"

"Alright."  _Best to at least humor him_.

—

He had picked some semi formal place just outside of town, making sure to tell her of the times Sam and Dean had taken him there after a hunt, how it held both good and bad memories, and how overall he missed not having to eat. She was amused at how much more open he was today, how he didn’t panic over the sight of his scars, and how he seemed so much more able to hold a conversation.

This was her Castiel, her cause, and she felt some strange swell of pride over him.

"So you never told me," she said, lifting her wine glass to hr lips and taking a drink."How’d you really get the scars?"

"A fire at the bunker. Almost destroyed the archives completely."

Was this after Sam and Dean got offed?”

"Yeah, shortly after. I would have probably died if Kevin didn’t save me."

She eyed him. “Why do I sense some bit of animosity?”

"I was burning to death. This whole nightmare would have been over with," Meg watched his eyes dart from her to the table. "That night you came back wasn’t the first time I tried to die, Meg. Every time I almost succeed, almost get to have my ‘soul’ ripped from me; I’m interrupted. I’ve tried to die. But I can’t."

"So we’ll die together."

She watched his head snap back up and stare at her. “What?”

"Why not? Go out with a bang. We don’t belong Clarence. We’re faceless gods walking among men. And what’s better than this alce? anywhere."

" I couldn’t let you do that Meg…"

"Good. Then neither of us are gonna go around killing ourselves. Glad we got that settled."

He tilted his head before giving her a sort of amuse smile, looking like he did years ago. “I understood what you just did.”

"Good,she grabbed his tie, yanking him towards her and kissing him over the table. When they broke apart she leaned back and downed the last of her wine. "Take me home Cas. I wanna see what else you were planning on tonight."

—

Any plans were muttered by a quick stop at the bar across from the apartment complex, followed by drunken walk home and the occasional stops to kiss certain words from one anothers faces. They’d found themselves pinned to the end of the elevator, ignoring the angry shouts for them both to get out by singling their focus on one another,forgetting the world and focusing only on one another.

When they finally reached their tiny room, time was a blur while they struggled off their clothes while keeping their lips connected, Castiel showering her with need and want, and Meg meeting him with fire against his ice.

Her hands when to his scarred chest and instead of shrinking away she felt him press closer to her, his own hands wanting to touch her, waning to feel her all over, as if he wanted to be sure she wouldn’t break if he left his hands in one spot for too long. Meg wasn’t sure what had opened this Castiel but she was sure she wanted him, looking past the worn vessel and seen the grace filled angel once again. Something changed in him. 

He was happy. For the first time in months, Castiel seemed to actually want her round, letting her touch him, letting her feel him and be near him.  _Letting her love him_.

"I’m sorry," he whispered against her ear, his face flush against hers as he stroked her.

"Shh," Meg whispered back, letting him touch her and feel her. "Put up and Shut up, Clarence."

And damn if he did.


	5. Chapter 5

 

He was still so broken.

Broken enough that it frightened her but he was making progress. He was no longer so demanding of her, so needing and so...frightened.

But as time went on he seemed to be waking up, seemed to be breaking away from the broken, depressed man he once was and starting to let himself free.

When she woke up curled against his chest and listening to the soft way he snored, she found herself cuddling closer to his warmth as the cold outside kept the room cold and the outside appartment colder, trying to force herself back to sleep. Winter was his favorite season apparently, a time where his scars could easily be hidden by heavy clothing and thick coats, scarves, whatever else he could use to keep people from seeing the hideous burns that decorated his torso and arms.

He'd gotten to where he would sleep more, less frightened by the ideas of what hunted in the night and what was sure to hunt him as well. When she'd brought up the idea of hunting again he closed up, yelled at her to never bring it up again and closed himself off, which pissed her off the no end and she ended up giving him a piece of her mind that night.

It ended in sex and anger to the both of them falling asleep on one another, Cas muttering an apology in his sleep that seemed to do meg just fine.

Stretching against him, ignoring his sleepy moan her leg brushed his groin she leaned over him to read the brand new alarm clock she'd bought, groaning at the little red numbers.

_Too early, he'll freak._

"Meg?" she almost jumped at the sound of his groggy voice. "Hungry?"

"Are you?"

"Mmm," 

"It's Saturday," she said and he nodded as if he already knew. "I don't think we have anything."

"Humans," he snorted. "So needy."

"Keep saying humans like that and people are gonna think you're weird."

"Really? Worse than the children who think I'm a monster down the hall?"

She stared at him, expecting that to be bitter and hate filled but he was still grinning at her, eyes half closed and he rolled his head back. She hadn't heard him joke about that ever; it was a thing that had bothered him since she'd returned. But he found humor in it now (and as she went on, found out that he had such an ugly laugh), and she found herself amused at that.

"Do you  _really_  want to get up?" she asked, nodding towards the alarm clock that had just hit the new hour. 

"No."

That seemed to be enough for her as she snuggled back down against him, ignoring the light that had begun trickling in as the morning dragged on.

\--

There were a lot of things different about being human. meg wasn't sure if it was just the extreme amount of weakness or if she was just tired all the time. Sleep, having to eat, things she hadn't done in thousands of years and now it was beginning to weigh on her like nothing had before.

Castiel seemed used to it now, even after being what he was for a milinia he seemed to know his strengths and weaknesses, what was bad for hiv and what was considered good. All and all it made meg's job as his caretaker a tad bit easier. 

Waking up to an empty bed, however, was not what she was used to.

Running her hand over Castiel's side she still felt the heat from his body; he must have gotten up little bit after she fell asleep because it was still early. It had been hard to keep him awake or even keep him asleep at times. Even Meg had been plaugued with a tiny bit of insomnia, probably from bartending but she seemed to find some way to get to sleep, even if it meant taking Castiel's sleeping pills so she could keep them away from him. He was better but the smallest slip up, the smallest trigger could set him into a relapse that Meg wasn't sure she could fix.

_Just had to smooth talk me into this, huh Gabriel_

The sound of a pain dropping had her jump, startled at the suddewn noise and the screech of the dusty fire alarm going off, the seering sound making her fly from the bed, almiost afraid of what she'd see.

_Castiel hates fire. Fire. Clarence, no!_

Almost breaking down the bedroom door she ran fromthe living room to the kitchen to see Castiel battling charred eggs and some unknown black thing he had buried under a tablecloth.

"I um..." he muttered, lifting the table cloth to blow the smoke away from the alarm, only to have what was billowing under the cloth to flush lout and choke him in the process.

"What are you doing?"

"I was trying to make breakfast," he growled, obviously not happy with his results.

"You never touch the oven."

"Maybe that's why I couldn't use it," he fumbled with the dials until the gas shut off, "explains a lot."

"What the fuck were you doing with fire?"

"I was once a being comprised of holy fire and wings," he said while dumping the charred remains in the trash. "I...felt it was time to work past what happened."

"By making breakfast."

"mmm," he replied, rubbing at his face in relief when the alarm finally stopped blaring.

"Damn it, Castiel," she snorted. "You could have burned the apartment down."

Instantly she regretted what she said, she watched him cringe up and his eyes go wide, and for a second she was about ready to fight him when he shut his eyes and exhaled.

"You're right, I could have."

She watched him, amused, because she'd never seen him react like that. it actually seemed to remind her of the old angel he once was, unnerved, unbothered, not scarred by trama and loss and afraid.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. I didn't mean to scare you," he scratched at the scars lining his neck, something she found he did when he was nervious or anxious and with a sigh she grabbed his arm, looking at him with a curious look. "What's wrong"

"Nothing it's just...strange, seeing you like this."

"It's taked a lot but I need to stop hiding."

"So what does that mean?"

"I don't know," he muttered, turning into her and watching her eye him as he dipped his head down to kiss her. "But I know how to start."

"Do you now?"

"I think so. God gave me you back for a reason, and I've neglected it. It's going to take time. But...I love you," he pressed his forehead against hers, feeling her try to sneak back but he held her fimly. "I want you."

"Well doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

"Do you want me?"

"Maybe. depends. Where are you getting at, Clarence?"

"Nothing can change what we are, what we've become, so I've decided to come to terms," he whispered. meg looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "I want to be human with you. In every sense of the term."

"This is a pretty tacky proposal, you know."

"I'm pretty tacky so I assumed it would work."

"You want a yes?"

"It would be prefered over a no."

"You sure about this?"

"Positive."

"Why the hell not."


End file.
